Trifecta!

Now that would be a good thing if we were at a horse race. Sadly, that is NOT a good thing in this house. So I mentioned I have a rat terrier who is 11 years old. She grew up in the big city where it would be either hitting pavement (very little grass) to go potty or hitting the piddle papers. Yes folks, pee pee pads. An expensive version of how people used to do it back in the day with newspaper. But I digress.....
My dog has been my life, my bff, my head PIC (partner in crime) since 1999. I would give my life for this dog..... until now. Ever since Jacy was born, Bizkit has developed somewhat of an attitude problem. No idea why. The dog continues to sleep in bed with us and get several square meals a day, which cost 65 bucks a freaking 18 pound bag!! Apparently my Bizkit has allergies to everything imaginable except duck and potatoe..... yeah. My dog can't eat beef or chicken, or pork. OR her eyeball swells up and starts to fall out of her head (seriously), her skin turns bright red, and she begins to itch and scratch all over. Whats even worse.... is she gets an irritated anus as well with her allergies so she is constantly licking her ass, CONSTANTLY. So her breath smells like her ass is backed up into her mouth. This last point wouldn't be too much of an issue except Bizkit shows her affection by licking us. So we pay out the ass (no pun intended) to have her teeth cleaned every year which greatly improves her breath for about 5 minutes. Sigh.
Anyway.....
Bizkit has been paper trained since 99. She does have accidents sometimes, but mostly she's pretty spot on as long as the piddle paper is kept fresh. She's a little snooty that way. But sometimes she misses the paper completely and I am starting to think she is doing it purposely as an attention getter (any attention is good attention right??)Well today was the straw that broke the camels back for me. I'm telling you I was ape shit crazy. SO how would you feel if this happened to you:
Every morning you wake up, brush your teeth, wash your face, throw on some clothes. Put down a pidde paper for Bizkit in the bathroom, just in case. Go downstairs get breakfast started, clean up some dishes, feed Bizkit. Put a clean piddle paper downstairs just in case. Then you start getting laundry together just in time to hear your toddler ready to be awake for the day. You go get her, get her dressed, brush her teeth, wash her face, comb her hair.... takes about 10 minutes. Dare I add that you have something going on with your hormones that makes you sweat profusely and go zero to bitch in less than 5 seconds. You know, this is the time when you should just handle the barest minimum of tasks for fear of going postal. Then you come back downstairs and walk into the pantry where fresh pee is all over the damn floor. As you start cleaning that up and wrestling a toddler to stay away from the "uh oh" (she repeats this over and over and over again as a means to help me see the uh oh). Then I turn around to get the simple green and what do I find on the kitchen floor...... FUCKING TURDS!! Bizkit decided to drop a deuce on my kitchen floor. "Uh oh momma, Uh oh". So Jacy goes in the high chair for breakfast. I clean up the second "uh Oh" and then I hear the sound of gastric juices being churned inside a rat terrier tummy. You know the sound, kinda like a cat coughing up a hairball, but grosser. Just as I get up to run to Bizkit to get a paper under her to throw up on she pukes out all kinds of nasty leopard print hairy stuff all over the carpet in two spots!!!!!! "Uh oh momma".
Yeah.... today was not a good day!

WTH!

So..... many folks would be excited to know they have an awesome husband who pretty much does anything for them. I am one of those folks. I love my hubbs more than anything in the world. He is my one true love, best friend, and confidant. But I swear to you, if we were running from a serial killer in the middle of the woods he would definitely get caught before me. Let me tell you why.
My hubbs is perhaps the slowest man on the planet. He will say he is calculated. However a fancy term you want to place on it, in easy words its considered sloooooow as shit. Getting ready to leave the house takes an act of congress to get things done and maintain focus at the task at hand. He has ADD intermittently. Like " I need my keys, wallet, oh.... whats this new flippy toy thing. Wow, did you see it can do this" as it makes the obnoxious noise in the background "ziing zaang zuzzuzuzuz" with his giggles breaking up the sounds from the toy. Then theres me.
Running around the house looking like a cyclone getting all kinds of stuff together for the trip out of the house. Diaper bags, diaper wipes, snacks, stuffed animals, sippy cup, shoes, car activities. You know the stuff you need for EVERY SINGLE trip out of the house. So why oh why does my soul mate still not understand what needs to be prepared for a day out of the house. Instead, there he stands with his keys and wallet "ziing zaang zuzzuzuuzzuuzing". Then when he drives (which he doesn't do often cuz we would never get to our destination on time) he twirls a radio remote control in his hand and stares out the window and then the other window, then the other window. He does not keep his head from moving back and forth. Not only is it distracting being his passenger, but its a hazard for him because while he veers all over the road sightseeing I am plotting a way to keep him out of the driver seat at the next stop. The nausea angle always works.....
So back to the forest serial killer crazed maniac chasing us and Shawn being caught first. Do I a. go back to save him and risk my life knowing we will probably both die together or b. keep running and hope shawn's left hook is in shape and he can get away and we'll meet up later for some caramel macchiatos. Hey why fight with destiny..... if he were to die and I survive..... that means my life has another plan. So..... hmmm...... Its been nice knowing you Shawn! Now I only have 4 loads of laundry to do a week.
"WWWWWaaaaaaaaaaHHHHHHHHH shoes mommy" Well thats it for this mental case........daughter needs her shoes and daddy is still playing with that damn ziinger toy. I wonder if I could rig it with electrical impulses...........